


built a wooden nest

by spock



Category: Wet Hot American Summer (2001), Wet Hot American Summer: First Day of Camp (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Established Relationship, Getting to Know Each Other, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Schmoop, Sexual Experimentation, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 04:18:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5483045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spock/pseuds/spock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's exciting, discovering things about one another at the same time that they learn about it themselves. McKinley really, really hopes that what he's feeling never goes away. He also really, <i>really</i> only wants to discover things about himself with Ben, but he's not sure how to say that without sounding like a psychopath when they've only been dating for three days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	built a wooden nest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Risse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Risse/gifts).



  
ᴅᴀʏ ғᴏᴜʀ   
4:23 ᴀᴍ  


There's something about camp that always has McKinley waking up before the sun, despite the fact that he can never quite manage doing so at any other time of the year without the help of two separate alarm clocks and his dad yanking the covers off of him, bitching at him to get his ass in gear.

He'd gone to bed only four hours ago, yet here he is, blinking up at the ceiling, feeling well-rested and itching to go on his morning run. Most of the kids in his bunk are off creeping in the girls’ and they aren't due to scamper back to the cabin for another hour at least, and then breakfast won't be long after that. If he times everything right, he can be back and using up all the hot water before the first of those cretins even hits the grass. 

The weather this summer has been insane, and so of course it starts to rain once McKinley passes the forest's tree line. Big, fat drops sneak through the canopy of leaves and soak his hair in a matter of seconds, drenching his clothes and making them stick to his skin, uncomfortably. The humidity makes his lungs feel heavy, and the path beneath his feet is starting to turn into a low-budget attempt at quicksand. McKinley sighs and starts to head back towards camp, deciding to give up now before he breaks his fucking leg. 

Ben's sitting on the steps of his cabin, wrapped up in a blanket, looking like a caterpillar waiting to turn into a butterfly. McKinley picks up his pace and jogs up the steps to sit next to him. "'Morning," he says. 

"McKinley, hi!" Ben's smile spreads across his entire face; it's like the sun's come out even though it's still raining. "Rain like this is great for the lungs. It's like a natural humidifier." He holds up a cup of something steaming that'd been hidden from McKinley's view on the other side of his hip. "Claude Dumet told me that drinking this stuff every morning is the secret to a long career on the stage."

McKinley couldn't actually give a shit. "Wow," he says, "that's helpful." Then he kisses Ben. 

Ben kisses back eagerly, more lips than tongue. McKinley chases after his mouth, leaning into him, completely forgetting that there isn't an inch of him that isn't soaked to the bone. "Oh gosh, you're wet!" Ben jerks back awkwardly and falls onto his elbows, losing the grip on his blanket. He looks very confused. McKinley starts to judge himself for how attractive he finds it. 

"Yeah, Ben, I just ran up to you through the rain." He shakes his hair like a dog, and it makes Ben laugh when the water hits his face. " _You_ were just talking about the rain."

"It's early." Ben drops down to lay on his back. His arms are long enough that he can still reach McKinley that way, even though he's sitting at Ben's hip. He grabs the hem of McKinley's shirt and pulls, making the cotton pull away from where it'd been plastered against his skin. It's essentially translucent at this point; the print on the front looks like a tattoo on his chest. "You're really wet."

McKinley lets himself teeter sideways until he's laying beside Ben, head resting on his own bicep. "I am," he agrees. "I think it'd be suspicious if you were out here and didn't get a little damp too." He tips forward so that his chest collides with Ben's, and then starts kissing him again, tossing one of his legs over both of Ben's. 

Ben covers them both with the half of the blanket he isn't lying on and lets them pick up where they left off. Ben might have been the reason McKinley had only gotten four hours of sleep last night. 

Neither of them are experts at kissing yet, but it didn't take long for Ben to realize that McKinley _really_ likes it when Ben plays with his hair, which wasn't something that McKinley had known about himself beforehand. It's exciting, discovering things about one another at the same time that they learn about it themselves. He really, really hopes that this feeling never goes away. He also really, really only wants to discover things about himself with Ben, but he's not sure how to say that without sounding like a psychopath when they've only been dating for three days. 

He's trying to wiggle their hips together when Ben starts to laugh into their kiss, breathless and stilted, like he's trying to stop himself. McKinley pulls back just enough to ask, "What?" Ben shakes his head and presses their lips back together, still laughing. " _What_?" McKinley asks again.

Ben sighs and flops onto his back, covering his eyes with both hands. "In my mind you look so cute, wrapped up with your arms around my zoot suit," he sings, voice hushed and embarrassed. 

McKinley laughs at him too. "Zoot blanket, maybe," he says, reaching across Ben's chest to pull the blanket back over him, tucking it under his chin. "How are you such a nerd all the time?" Ben finally drops his hands away from his face and frowns at McKinley, which just makes McKinley smile tightly, lips closed, scrunching up his nose. 

"Hey," McKinley says. "I've gotta get back and shower before those little dicks come back." He traces a line down the slope of Ben's nose, tapping the fleshy end of it with his thumb. "Do you wanna come with me?" He asks because it's something he would like, but not anything he expects. 

Ben blushes hard and gives McKinley the most pathetic look. 

"It's okay," McKinley tells him. "Seriously."

"I really, really want to," Ben says. "Like _really, really_." 

"It's cool," McKinley promises. "But, uh, is it okay if I jerk off thinking about you?"

"Yes!" Ben's voice cracks. "I'll uh — I'll think about you too."

"Sweet, it'll be like a long distance date." McKinley kisses him one last time and then rocks back onto his heels.

"Crap, wait, hold on," Ben says, scrambling to to his feet and stomping into his bunk. He comes out a few seconds later with a red zip-up hoodie in his hands. "Here." He holds it open and McKinley lets Ben help him put it on, weirdly excited at the thought of wearing Ben's stuff. "This way you won't get sick." It's probably too late to worry about that, but McKinley's really fit and doesn't fall ill easily, so it shouldn't be an issue. Maybe he can talk Ben into sharing all of his clothes with him anyway, as a good-luck, weird theatre kid ritual or something. 

McKinley says thanks and turns to go, but he's stopped by the grip Ben still has on him. He turns to see what's up and sees that Ben's staring at him really hard. "Uh," he says.

"You look really good in red," Ben tells him, face serious. "Like, you look good in everything? But red — uh, yeah."

"Yeah?" McKinley grabs the hand that Ben has fisted in the jacket and slips their fingers together. Ben steps closer and they kiss a few more times until McKinley pulls back for real. "Seriously, I've gotta go jerk off to your face now."

"Oops, sorry." Ben releases him, holding both his hands up in the air. "See you at breakfast?" 

McKinley hops down the small flight of stairs, says, "Bet on it," and does his best to run with an erection as casually as he can back to his cabin.

  
ᴅᴀʏ ᴇʟᴇᴠᴇɴ   
8:47 ᴀᴍ  


Greg's assassination leaves a void that has to be filled, which is how McKinley accidentally stumbles into the role of official-unofficial co-coordinator of all the boy's morning sport activities for the summer, a title which he shares with Coop, and sometimes J.J., whenever that lazy fucker actually feels like putting in the effort. They're the only ones with a real athletic bone in their body, though McKinley's the only one who actually plays for his high school.

The councilors that he grew up with always used to have them play soccer this early in the summer. It's good conditioning for the baseball and football that'll come later in the year, and it helps to weed out the kids who might want to sign up for other activities should they realize sports really aren’t their racket. It also means that McKinley gets to stay on the sidelines and pay the barest minimum of attention, which is all he really cares about. 

He's blowing his whistle to signify the end of the first half when he notices Ben sitting down in the grass on the other side of the lawn, watching him. McKinley waves the kids over to the canteen to rehydrate and then jogs across the pitch. "What're you doing here?" He asks. 

"I actually care about sports a lot," Ben says, with a straight face. McKinley stares at him. "That was me acting," Ben adds helpfully. 

"Totally had me convinced." McKinley sits on the grass with his knees folded under him and grabs Ben's hand, giving it a squeeze. "You could _totally_ pass." 

"Pass as someone who knows about sports?" Ben asks, obviously confused. 

McKinley can't get over how perfect he is, sometimes. "Yeah buddy, as someone into sports." He glances around and then ducks in for a quick kiss. "Seriously, what's up?"

"Susie's been on the phone with an Actors’ Equity rep since breakfast," Ben sighs, dropping his head onto McKinley's shoulder. "We're trying to get the rights to another play, but the bureaucracy is insane. I'm pretty sure she'll be tied up with that all day." Resting his forehead in the curve of McKinley's shoulder, Ben looks up at him out of the corner of his eye. "But mostly I just wanted to you watch you do sports stuff. You've got great legs."

"I know," McKinley says, because he does. He wouldn't wear shorts as often as he does if he didn't. 

He stands and walks behind Ben, puts his hands on Ben's shoulders and pulls until Ben's laying on his back, feet still planted on the ground. Ben's always been obvious about how much he likes McKinley manhandling him. It works out just great for McKinley, because it turns out that he likes manhandling Ben just as much. 

"Here, I'll help you warm up," McKinley says. "I'll have the kids switch over to tennis and then you and I can play doubles. We'll fucking murder those dweebs."

"I do yoga!" Ben tells him, excitedly. "That means I should sorta know how to warm up, right? It's the same thing. " Of course he does yoga. Everything about Ben is lifted from McKinley's spank bank. Absolutely, literally everything. Sometimes he wants to tell Ben that he can't _say_ stuff like that, but he actually doesn't ever want him to stop. 

McKinley's pretty sure that he's going to ask Ben to marry him before the end of camp. His dad's always told him that there are some things in life that you have to call dibs on. Ben is his ultimate dibs. 

Ben helpfully puts one of his feet in McKinley's hands and lets McKinley bend it up to his chest, like it's something he does all the time. McKinley makes sure to get up as close to him as he can, so that his groin is pressed into Ben's butt. 

Moments like these are why he's always loved athletics. He wonders if he can talk Beth into letting him add wrestling onto the agenda, and if he can get Ben to sign up to help him teach it. 

They go though a few different stretches and then McKinley stands and takes Ben's feet with him, holding his legs by the ankles, pointing them towards the sky. He makes sure that Ben's knees lock into place and then leans his chest against the soles of Ben's shoes, resting his weight against him. "You think that you could hold me up?"

"Probably?" Ben guesses. "Let's try." Ben dutifully bends his knees and puts his arms up, palms facing McKinley. 

"Don't drop me," McKinley warns. "Seriously, I'm pretty sure I'll squish you." 

Ben actually fucking laughs. McKinley wants to be pissed, but Ben looks really fucking cute when he does, especially with hair flopped back from his forehead, sun shining on his skin and a flush on his face from this really damn basic, low-impact workout. McKinley's been hard for the past twenty minutes. 

"I'm like, four inches taller than you," Ben says. "You can't squish me." McKinley feels like he knows where this is going. He really should stop — but he won't. 

"I would if I landed on your face!"

Ben smiles at him beatifically and says, "You can sit on my face." 

McKinley vows to hold him to it.

  
ᴅᴀʏ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ   
9:08 ᴀᴍ  


They all decide to hold a party to mark the halfway point of camp. Beth gives them her blessing, but tells them that it doesn’t mean that they can skimp out on their regular duties for the entire day. Only two of them are allowed to take the day off to set up for it, and McKinley puts his debate classes to use by arguing for him and Ben to be the ones to do it, on account of how they're the most creative.

Susie nearly gives him a run for his money, but he uses his trump card of them having more upper body strength than her, plus the fact that their parents aren't the type to sue should they get hurt, whereas Susie's are practically itching for a lawsuit payout. 

Beth hands them the keys to the supply shed with a smile. McKinley makes faces at Susie from behind Beth's back when she tells Susie her decision. 

"We really don't need all day for this," Ben says, looking nervous. He's such a goodie two-shoes. 

"Exactly." McKinley shoves the key into the lock and jiggles it until it finally opens, used to having to borrow the keys from Beth whenever they switch sports for the week and he has to swap out the balls. "Everyone will be too busy to come looking for us." He smirks at Ben over his shoulder.

"This is going to take _all day_ ," Ben repeats, rapturous. His eyes have gone a little hazy and his cheeks are pink. He wraps one of his hands around McKinley's elbow. "Awesome."

"Yeah, totally awesome; get your ass inside the shed." He shoves Ben in front of him, through the door, then follows him inside, slamming the damn thing closed behind him. 

They start to kiss one another eagerly, Ben practically pouncing on him, scratching his fingers through McKinley's hair to rub at his scalp in a way that makes McKinley's knees go a little weak. "Ben," he says, blindly stepping backwards until his back hits one of the shelves. 

Ben starts nuzzling at his cheek, pressing kisses there before going lower to lick at the line of his neck. McKinley works his own fingers through Ben's hair, clutches at his shoulders. Ben keeps his face buried in McKinley's neck, and his kisses turn to languid licks. His breathing changes into a deep, slow rhythm.

"Uh, Ben," McKinley says. He taps his fingers against Ben's shoulders, wondering if this is one of those things he shouldn't bring up. "Are you — are you smelling me?" 

"Oh, God!" Ben springs away from him as if he'd been burnt, face draining of color for a few tense seconds before it floods with red. "I am so sorry. I'm so weird but you just smell — you smell really _good_? It's weird. I _know_ it's weird. I've been trying not to but," Ben runs out of steam then, and squeezes his eyes shut, like it'll somehow make him disappear.

McKinley walks forward until they're pressed up against one another again. He puts one hand at Ben's neck and drags his head down until his nose is pressed into McKinley's neck again. "It's not a big thing," McKinley tells him. "Just — it doesn't do anything for me, so could you jack me off while you do it or something?"

"Yeah." Ben practically sighs out the word, tension spilling from his body. He uses both of his hands to undo the little drawstring ties of McKinley's shorts, and then he pushes the elastic band down until it’s caught on his thighs. Ben spits into one hand and uses it to wrap around McKinley's dick; Ben wraps the other around his waist, holding him close, the tips of his fingers lightly brushing against the swell of McKinley's ass. 

"What do I smell like?" McKinley asks, since it seems like the sort of thing that would get Ben hot, and if they don't say something then it'll just be Ben sniffing his neck while he jerks McKinley off, and McKinley can see that becoming awkward enough that he might lose his stiffy if it goes on too long. 

Ben's hand tightens around McKinley's dick, and he picks up the speed of his stokes. "So good," Ben says, and then stops to lick at his neck some more. McKinley elbows him in the stomach. "Uh, like clean? You shower a lot because you're always running around and stuff, so your sweat is clean. It's really, really nice. So I guess it just smells like you? You seriously smell so, so good, McKinley." 

Hearing Ben praise him like this has McKinley close to coming, even if it's over something about himself that he has no real control over. He's listened to his cousin Debbie complain about how gross her boyfriend smells and how it's something she hates to put up with, so McKinley figures that his boyfriend liking his scent should be a point in their favor, especially considering that he likes it enough that it actually gets him off. 

"If you want, I could give you some of my shirts or something?" McKinley kinda wants to see if he can get Ben to wash his clothes after he finishes jerking off to them. Ben gets his rocks off and McKinley doesn't have to do his own laundry: that seems like a win/win to him. Compatibility like this is why they're going to make it in the long run, McKinley knows it. "Would you like that?"

Ben groans, loud and full of agony. He drops to his knees and buries his face at the awkward place where McKinley's thigh meets his hip, gasping in a breath. McKinley's dick touches Ben's cheek, which is the closest it's ever been to Ben's mouth, because they haven't ever done anything besides hands and dry humping yet. "Fuck, Ben," McKinley says, and then Ben's turning his head and taking McKinley between his lips. 

It takes one awkward lick of Ben's tongue against the underside of his dick while it's housed inside of his mouth for McKinley to come harder than he ever has in his life. "I love you," McKinley says, stuttering between the _love_ and _you_ , not because he regrets saying it in general, but because his vision goes black around the edges when Ben sucks a few times, trying to swallow McKinley's come while his dick's still in his mouth. 

McKinley shoves Ben's head away from him and tries to kick off his shorts without tripping over his own feet or braining himself against the shelves. "Lay on your back," McKinley says, still feeling shaky. 

"What?" Ben's face is bright red and his dick has pitched the biggest tent inside of his tracksuit bottoms. 

"Lay on your back." McKinley pauses between each word, serious. Ben gets with the program. "Keep your feet on the floor. Shove your pants down too." McKinley sits on Ben's chest and then rocks onto his knees, so that his thighs are on either side of Ben's face, nearly pressed up against his ears. He braces one hand on the floor next to Ben's head and then blindly reaches behind himself to take hold of Ben's dick. 

He doesn't really have the leverage to stroke it like he usually does, so he makes do with short pulls and squeezing tightly. "Okay," McKinley says, feeling settled. His dick is still half-hard, and it pokes against Ben's cheek. His balls are somewhere near Ben's chin, probably. "You can do your smell-thing now."

Ben's eyes widen and he groans again. McKinley can feel Ben’s dick thicken even more against his palm. Ben turns his head ands starts licking at McKinley's inner thigh, nipping whenever McKinley changes over from tugs to squeezes. It takes a tug, tug, squeeze, pull, squeeze for Ben to come all over McKinley’s hand. 

He lets go of Ben's dick so that he can get balance himself on the floor, rearranging until he's laying on top of Ben, his head resting on Ben's chest. He can hear Ben's heart racing below his sternum. It feels like it's keeping perfect time with McKinley's own.

"I love you too," Ben says, still trying to catch his breath. They're both silent for a little bit, and McKinley enjoys the warm feeling in his chest knowing that he loves Ben and that Ben loves him, and that neither of them freaked out at the other saying so. "I'm so happy that we found each other." 

McKinley strokes Ben's chest through his shirt. He kind of wants to shove it up to Ben's chest so that he can actually touch Ben's skin, but he doesn't want to have to move to make it happen. "I'm really glad that we don't fight or anything," Ben whispers. McKinley frowns, because that's a weird thing to say after exchanging I-love-you's. "My mom always says that nobody will ever want to put up with my shit, but you do, right? And we never even fight about it. It's nice."

"Woah, what the fuck?" McKinley plants his hand on Ben's chest and pushes himself up. Ben wheezes. "Your mom actually said that to your face? Like those exact words?" Ben nods. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Ben looks like he's about to say something, and McKinley cuts him off. "No, like — don't." Ben's face falls and McKinley feels like the world's biggest bastard. He stretches upwards and kisses Ben, closed lipped and hard, pushing all his frustration and feelings into it. "Full disclosure? I pretty much think you're perfect. There's no 'putting up', I like everything about you. If I ever see your mom on the street I think I'll run her over with my car, what the fuck."

"That's the nicest thing anybody's ever offered to do for me," Ben says. There’s tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. McKinley isn't exactly sure what he's supposed to do in this situation. "I think you're perfect too, obviously."

"Well yeah, you like to smell my dick." McKinley brushes their noses together a few times, nuzzling. "Obviously you love me more than I love you if you're _that_ into me."

It feels like a personal accomplishment when Ben says, "That's just because you haven't had a chance to get close to mine yet," through his blush. McKinley's clearly been a good influence on him.

  
ᴅᴀʏ ᴛʜɪʀᴛʏ-ɴɪɴᴇ   
4:23 ᴘᴍ  


McKinley frowns at Gary until Gary sighs and puts an extra piece of cornbread on his plate. "Thanks, buddy," he says, and then hauls ass before Gene spots him getting extras.

He walks over to the table Ben's at and sits down next to him. McKinley pulls his plastic fork out from the napkin it's wrapped in and uses it to point at the the extra plate on his tray. "That's for you," he says.

Ben ducks his head to smile. "Thanks muchly, darlin'." His southern accident is so bad that it somehow loops all the way back to being halfway decent, and never fails to make McKinley smile. 

"Stop," McKinley says, and then he spears a leaf of cabbage that's so limp it's practically gelatinous. "So you're applying to colleges and theatre programs this year right?" 

"Yeah." Ben's mouth is already stuffed full with half of the cornbread. He has to take three large sips of water before he can speak again. "I'm thinking about New York, but California too? I'll pretty much go anywhere that has a half-decent program. I kinda really want to go to The New School, but my mom would flip. I think getting into UCLA or Juilliard would be the only way she'd take me seriously." He leans in close and drops his voice to a whisper when he says, "Do you think I could even get into a place like that, though?" 

McKinley has no idea. He likes costumes and building sets, but the finer workings of drama education are a mystery to him. He doesn't even have an Actors Equity membership. "Definitely," he says anyway. McKinley's sure that Ben could do anything he wants. "Can you write me down a list of where you're gonna apply, and what towns they’re in? I'm going to be banking on athletic scholarships so that opens a lot of doors for me, you know? I'm sure we can both get into ones that’re close by, if not the same school."

"Are you serious?" Ben grabs McKinley's knee underneath the table, fingers digging into the skin. 

"Uh, yeah?" McKinkey takes a spoonful of jello into his mouth and hopes it won't stain his insides. "You know I feel, like, you _know_. It's not just a camp thing for me, I'm in it to win it." He frowns and pokes his spoon into Ben's cheek. "It's the same for you too, right?"

Ben stands up from the table, awkwardly stepping over the bench. "I need to speak to you outside," Ben says, gesturing in the general direction of the door. "We need to go over the staging for the talent show."

"What? Ben, it's not for like another two weeks, come on. I'm not done ea—"

" _Outside_." Ben stands and makes for the door, leaving his plate behind. 

McKinley sighs and rises to follow him. On his way out he slaps J.J. on the back of the head and says, "Toss those two trays over there for me, will ya?" and then sprints for the door before J.J. can cuss him out or grab him.

Ben's halfway across the yard when McKinley comes out through the door, so he has to keep running to catch up with him. Ben doesn't stop walking until they're past the tree-line, hidden from view. "Alright, we're outside. What's up?"

"Say it again," Ben says.

" _No_ ," McKinley groans out. "Why are you being dramatic? I hate this. Tell me what you want me to say. I don't want to play this game."

"About how you feel and it not being a camp thing."

McKinley sighs and stands up straight. They've been together for six weeks now and he totally knows how to handle Ben. Ben knows how to handle him, too, but he doesn't like to think about that. "I love you and this isn't a camp thing for me, it's a real thing. I, uh —"

" _In it_ ," Ben says. 

"Oh yeah. I'm in it to win it." McKinley pokes him in the stomach. "And it's the same for you, _right_?" 

Ben drops to one knee. "I love you and you're the best thing that's ever happened to me." He clears his throat. "My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire —"

"No," McKinley says, shaking his head. “I hate Austen. You can't ruin this moment with Austen. Try again." He smiles when Ben runs a hand through his hair, something he only does when he’s nervous. 

"I ask you to pass through life at my side," he tries. "To be my second self, and best earthly companion."

"That's not too bad." McKinley's impressed. "What's it from?"

Ben's shoulders sag and McKinley can tell that he's already trying to come up with another line. "Jane Eyre," he says.

"What the fuck, Ben, no. Do another one. I'm not going to tell our future kid that you quoted that fucked up book."

"Kid?" Ben asks. "Just the one?"

"We'll start with one and see how it goes." McKinley's thought about their future more than he'd ever care to admit. It's possible that he has the whole thing mapped out. "Give me another one. I want to say yes and kiss you already."

Ben's face lights up. "Crap, uh." He pounds his fist against his thigh a few times, thinking. "He's mine in a way that shocks you, but why don't you stop being shocked, and attend to your own happiness? Ugh no, that's terrible."

"No," McKinley says. "I liked that one. I think we've got a winner. Who is it?"

"Forster."

"Perfect." He drops to his knees so that he's level with Ben and then kisses the air from his lungs.

  
sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴅᴀʏ   
11:57 ᴘᴍ  


Ben makes him promise that they'll do their best to avoid one another until their wedding, to keep with tradition as closely as possible. There's no way that they can avoid one another entirely, but not speaking is the next best thing.

It's worth a shot.

  
ʟᴀsᴛ ᴅᴀʏ   
ᴀᴜɢᴜsᴛ 18, 1981  
10:57 ᴀᴍ  


_I've got something at eleven._ He'd felt Ben's eyes burning into his skin as he said it. _I can't change it again 'cause I already moved it twice._

McKinley’s nervous, is the thing. He feels ten years younger and thirty pounds lighter and he can’t wait to tie himself to Ben, even if it’s just during a dumb camp ceremony. It’s the first step in them making it real, and he doesn’t want to wait until then to see Ben. It’s the last day of camp and it’s not like they can swing a honeymoon; this is the one chance they’ve got. 

By the time he's halfway to the shed, he's convinced himself that Ben won't be there. The Ben he met eight weeks ago would've had a hint like that fly right over his head. He knows that Ben had seen right through him this morning, so it's entirely in Ben's hands if they see each other before the wedding. 

His heart starts racing when he sees that the door’s unlocked.

1:00 ᴘᴍ

McKinley pulls two of his favorite kids aside while Gary's laying the chalk for the baseball diamond and J.J.'s rounding up the bats.

"Alright, I've got a thing to get to at 1:30," he says to them. "It can't be moved, and you don't want to be around me if I'm forced to miss it. I don't care how you little shits do it, but I need you to make sure this game doesn't happen."

"Seriously," Susie says. "I will murder every single person if we're not out of here within thirty seconds past the half hour. Don't fucking test me, because I'll do it."

He punches Coop in his thigh and smirks when Coop hisses at the charlie horse. "That goes double for you, Coop. I don't want a single one of the kids whining. You need to sell this and have those Tigerclaw shitheads gone a-s-a-p." He makes sure to catch all of their eye when he says, "Got it?"

"Got it."


End file.
